She rode into his stronghold with all her captains escorting her.
Niall Burke watched her arrival from one of the towers of the castle,
and wondered what would happen between them now. She rode
astride, as she had in the old days, and upon the black stallion, Finn.
She was dressed in Lincoln green hose, over which she wore high
brown cordoba leather boots, and a mid-thigh-length doeskin jerkin
with silver buttons. Beneath the jerkin was a cream-colored silk shirt
with small pearl buttons. Her glorious blue-black hair was parted
in the center and twisted into a smooth coil at the nape of her neck.
Her gardenia skin was a little flushed. Upon her left hand he could
see a blue flash, and knew she wore the great sapphire ring that had
been her father’s seal of office.

He descended from the tower, and strode swiftly to his own
quarters. To his surprise Darragh was waiting for him. The three
years of their marriage had been a bad joke, and he rarely saw her,
let alone cohabited with her. It was obvious that she would never
conceive him a child. She had never come to him willingly, and
each time he had taken her it had been a battle in which she yielded
to the flesh and then did penance for her weakness. She had had
coarse brown robes made up for herself, robes that resembled those worn by her old religious order. She rarely bathed, believing it a
concession to the flesh. For over a year now she had spent her days
and nights in constant prayer. He no longer went near her. Her
personal habits disgusted him, and attempting to claim his rights
seemed now like raping a nun, a thing for which Niall Burke had
no taste.

He greeted her courteously, and she replied, “Lady O’Flaherty
is here to see your father, Niall. Why has she come?”

“Her father has died, Darragh, and it was his deathbed wish that
she take over his duties until her brothers are grown. She is now the
O’Malley, and she has come to pledge her fealty to her overlord.”

“And what of her husband? I have been given to understand that 
she tried to murder him and then left him, taking his sons with her.
He lies paralyzed for life with only his loyal sister to care for him.”

“Where did you obtain this information, Darragh?” He kept his
voice quiet and level.

“I have a letter from the unfortunate Lady Claire O’Flaherty
begging me to intercede with the MacWilliam on her poor brother’s
behalf.”

“I do not believe the tale, Darragh. I have never known Skye to
be anything but generous and thoughtful.”

“Those are not the qualities that made the O’Malley leave her in
charge of his small empire,” noted Darragh shrewdly. It was an
unusually sensible observation for Darragh.

“Skye would never harm anyone. I refuse to believe it!”

“Of course you do not believe it. You lust after her, but for the
sake of your immortal soul you must not yield to her wiles, Niall!”,

He laughed bitterly. “Whose wiles would you have me yield to
then, wife? Yours? Let me tell you something about Skye O’Malley,
my dear. The last time I saw her she told me she never wanted to
set eyes on me again because, through an awful quirk of fate, we
were wed to other people. I then said I would kill her husband. She
chided me, asking what I would do with my own wife, kill her also?
She said you had been as wronged as the rest of us were, and we
must all make the best of our situations. She would tempt neither 
herself nor me by seeing me again.”

“Ah! The most wicked ones are always the most clever, Niall!
She has skillfully misled you into believing her virtuous. Beware
of her! Beware!” And with a strange look in her weak blue eyes,
Darragh turned and left him.

Niall went about the business of changing his clothes. His father
had told him he wanted him there when the O’Malley swore her
fealty, for she must swear it not only to the MacWilliam, but also to his heir. He debated whether to be elegant or simple, finally
settling on black velvet because it was both.

Entering the main hall of the castle, he was surprised to find that
Skye had not changed from her riding clothes. Her captains at her
back, she knelt. Placing her hands in the old and gnarled ones of
the MacWilliam, and then into Niall’s warm firm grasp, she twice
swore her loyalty to the Burkes, then rose gracefully to accept their
kiss of peace. Lord Burke noted the pride and love flowing from the
eyes of the rough-looking O’Malley captains. That they adored her
was obvious, and he was reassured to know that she would sail with
such devoted men.

Then suddenly, to everyone’s shock and embarrassment, Darragh
appeared in their midst, her nun’s robes swirling about her, and cried
out, “My lord the MacWilliam, on behalf of the O’Flahertys of
Ballyhennessey I cry for judgment against this evil woman! Oh,
wicked whore of Babylon, your days of evil are numbered! The Lord
God will strike thee down with fire and the sword!”

Skye looked swiftly to Niall, her eyes filled with pity.

“Clear the hall, dammit!” shouted the MacWilliam, red-faced and
very angry. When all but the four of them had gone, the old man
turned on Darragh. “I hope, madam, that you have a bloody fine
explanation for this intrusion, and for your unwanted charges!”

“No longer ‘madam,’ sir, but Sister Mary Penitent. That was to
have been my name before you stole me from my convent, and
forced me into carnal bondage with your son. It will soon be my
name again, for I will no longer remain here, but return to St.
Mary’s. Before I go, however, I will right a great wrong done by
this wicked woman. First, she deliberately crippled her husband.
Then she willfully deserted him, stealing both his sons and his
money. She must be punished! God demands it!”

“What the hell nonsense is this?” roared the MacWilliam.

“She claims to have a letter from Claire O’Flaherty,” said Niall
quietly to his father.

“The lying, deceitful bitch!” said Skye furiously, and the
MacWilliam and his son grinned at each other.

“All right, O’Malley, what’s your explanation?” demanded the
old man.

Skye glanced scornfully at Darragh. “Is she strong enough to hear
the truth of this? It’s not very pretty.”

“Speak, O’Malley,” commanded the MacWilliam.

“Claire O’Flaherty lies, my lord. I caught her and her brother,
my husband, in incest.” Skye outlined the story, concluding; “When
I dodged him, he fell down a flight of stairs.”

Darragh Burke, who had turned white at the mention of the word
”incest,” gave a moan of horror and fell to the floor in a faint. The
MacWilliam and his son glanced briefly at her, then returned their
attentions to Skye.

“The surgeon said Dom will never walk again. Under the cir-
cumstances, I feel no obligation to him. The estate was in a ruinous
condition when I married Dom. Your annual tributes had not been
paid in three years, but it is all paid up now, thanks to me. The
O’Flaherty lands are again prosperous because of my skillful man-
agement. This, despite Dom’s having gambled and whored away
my dowry. Claire O’Flaherty owes me for every mouthful of food
she consumes, every drop she drinks, the very clothes on her back..
She might have been safely wed, but for her own crimes. It was her
choice to remain at Ballyhennessey and commit incest with her
brother rather than wed her own man. When Dom was injured I told
her she could stay and nurse him or go, as she pleased.” Skye looked
hard at the MacWilliam. “If you feel her charges have merit, my
lord, I will abide by your decision.”

The old man reached out and gently stroked Skye’s beautiful hair.
”There is no merit in her charges, O’Malley,” he said gruffly. “If
she will not accept my decision in this matter, then I shall turn her
over to the Church. They will deal with the wench far more harshly
than you or I would.” He smiled at Skye. “Now, lass, will you
accept my hospitality for a few days’ time? You’ve come through
a hard time and you’ve great responsibility ahead of you.”

She smiled back at him, and he thought again how extraordinarily
beautiful she was. For the briefest moment he regretted his age and
his infirmities. He envied his son this beautiful woman who would
undoubtedly become his mistress.

“I will accept your kindness, my lord, but only for a day. You’re
right in that I am now laden with responsibilities. My father’s entire
fleet stands awaiting my orders, and they must remain idle until I
have studied his books. My eldest brother prefers the Church to the
sea, and though I will train him in my father’s ways, for boys are
known to be fickle creatures with changeable minds, I doubt that
Michael will change. Therefore it will be my half-brother, Brian,
who’s most likely to become the next O’Malley. He is but six now.
It will be at least ten years before he can take over his duties. Then,
too, there are my own two sons to raise.”

“Stop, lassie!” said the MacWilliam. “You’re exhausting me. It’s
too much for a woman to take on, and I wonder at your father, God
assoil him.”

Skye looked at the old man proudly. “My father knew I would
not fail him. He might have chosen any of my sister’s husbands, or even my uncle Seamus, but he chose me. I am the O’Malley!” Then
her look softened, and her eyes, which had been a deep purple-blue,
lightened to a clear blue-green. ‘Tonight, however, I shall be just
Skye O’Malley, and your most grateful guest.” She turned without
another word and walked from the room.

The Mac William bellowed for a servant, who quickly removed
the still unconscious Darragh. “If you mean to have the O’Malley
lass,” he said to Niall, “you had best tame her quickly, my son. This
is no milk-and-water wench, but a full-blown woman. Once she gets
the bit of power into her teeth, you’ll not easily get a bridle on her.
I’ll see if I can start annulment proceedings on your marriage, for
the O’Neill girl belongs back in her convent. As to O’Flaherty, the
health of a cripple is precarious at best. I trust you’re not too noble
to object if we assist him now to a better life… discreetly, of
course.”